Arrested Development
by Sugar-Hype-Queen
Summary: Pop secrets and candy beans, boyfights and weed. 100 themes, mainly KakaxIru.
1. Candy beans

* * *

**001. Candy beans**

* * *

"How did you know I was feeling down, Hatake-san?"

Kakashi shrugged in reply. From his slumped position at the desk, Iruka blinked at the small jar of colorful candy beside his head. Dark rings circled his eyes. His hair was escaping from his usual ponytail, ebony strands wisping here and there and everywhere. Kakashi watched as the teacher sat up and carefully took the jar into his hands.

"Candy beans," Iruka murmured, twisting off the lid and selecting a lemon yellow candy.

He smiled, eyes lighting up.

"Well damn, Hatake-san. You're a man after my own heart."

* * *

_Aren't the green ones supposed to be lucky? -SHQ_


	2. Holiday

**015. Holiday**

* * *

Ibiki cracked his knuckles, smirking lightly to himself.

Only an hour and a half more until he was cleared to leave. Everything was packed. He had a nice setup waiting in Grass. He just needed to grab his spare sunglasses out of Room Number 5. Had anyone worked up enough nerve to make eye contact with him, they would've noticed a cheerful glint in his eyes as he sauntered toward his department wing.

The door to Number 5, finally.

He dug his hand into the pocket of his trench coat, pulled out the key, and unlocked the door. He grasped the knob and pulled, the door swinging open to reveal-

"_Nnnn_- uh..."

"I-I-Ibiki-san! W-we can explain!"

Well.

Slowly and deliberately, Ibiki closed his eyes.

"As of this moment," he announced, turning on his heel, "I am officially on vacation."

* * *

_Every time you imagine two ninja having Bondage! fun, a cold is cured. Go wild. -SHQ_


	3. Pop Secret

**066. Pop Secret**

* * *

The Jounin Staff Room was relatively empty.

Only Genma, Raidou, Kotetsu, and Hatake Kakashi currently manned the dilapidated little chamber. Genma chewed his senbon impatiently as he waited for the dingy little microwave to pop his popcorn, salivating slightly at the buttery smell wafting from the appliance.

Raidou snorted. Kotetsu snored on the threadbare couch. Kakashi read his porn.

"I've never tried this kind before," Genma announced.

No response.

"It's called 'Pop Secret'. Pretty cool, huh?"

The quiet drip of the coffee machine mingled peacefully with Kotetsu's snores.

Genma's stomach growled.

"So Kakashi!" he exclaimed, "What's _your _Pop Secret?"

A single blue eye looked up disinterestedly. Sharingan Kakashi was silent for a moment, a thoughtful look displayed on the visible portion of his face.

"You know that Chunnin sensei," he began, "With the scar? Umino Iruka?"

Genma nodded, curiousity piquing.

"I want to..."

Genma's eyes bulged as he stared at the Kakashi, brain going into overdrive at the words the Jounin was saying.

Raidou frantically stuffed the staff room's thin, communal paper towels to his nose to stem his sudden, violent nosebleed.

Kotetsu frowned and blushed in his sleep, wriggling uncomfortably on the couch.

The microwave beeped.

No one made a move to get the fresh popcorn.

"It's called a Pop 'Secret' for a reason," Kakashi finished, lazily returning his gaze to his bright orange book.

* * *

_I'll pop your secret, bub. -SHQ_


	4. Banana

**14. Bananas. **

* * *

"Hey, Iruka-sensei!" called Naruto.

Kakashi looked up from his lunch at the blond's greeting, smiling cheerfully at the teacher. Iruka didn't smile back. Expert on body language and looking underneath the underneath as he was, Kakashi quickly used his Ultra Jounin Abilities to infer that the sensei was Not Happy. (The wave of killing intent radiating from the scarred man helped too, of course.)

Soon he was directly in front of him, ignoring a puzzled Naruto in favor of glaring, arms crossed, at the infamous Copy Cat Nin.

"Iruka-kun," Kakashi chirped innocently.

The brown haired man was not amused.

It showed.

"You," he growled.

"Who, me? Maaa, you've got the wrong guy, whatever it was. Would you like some of my lunch?"

Kakashi grabbed for a half-eaten apple, thought the better of it, and offered him a banana instead. Iruka stared at the yellow fruit with disdain for a moment before grabbing it, smirking.

"You substituted for me yesterday," he began, casually tossing the banana in the air, catching it, and repeating the process.

"You read porn. In front of them. You read shameless, pure dead _smut _in front of my class. My pre-genin class." He paused, looking at the ground with an almost thoughtful expression before bellowing "YOU READ PORN IN FRONT OF MY _PRE-GENIN_ CLASS! IF YOU _EVER _PULL THAT KIND OF NONSENSE AGAIN, HATAKE, I WILL _PERSONALLY _BEAT YOUR ASS TO A **PULP**!"

At the word pulp, the sensei caught the banana in his hand and _squeezed_, sending pale yellow streams of banana mush gushing out at both ends. The sensei vanished in an angry burst of smoke.

Naruto burst into laughter.

"K-K-Kakashi-Sensei!" he wheezed, tears in his eyes, "Iruka sensei just squirted your banana! Bwaaaaahahahahaha!!"

Kakashi glared at the boy. His eyes traveled to the ground in front of him, where Iruka had been standing. The pulverized fruit lay on the ground, violated.

"I'm glad you find this funny, Naruto," he muttered. "I thought I was about to end my day with a banana shoved up my ass."

* * *

Come mister tally man, tally me _banaaa-ah-naaa-ah!_ -SHQ


	5. Weed

**031.Weed**

* * *

"So _this _is why Genma loves this place." Iruka chuckles.

Lazily, he watches the smoke twist and ascend as Kakashi takes the last drag and nods in agreement, his long, pale fingers playing idly with the remains of the blunt.

It looks kind of funny, actually.

But nice. Funny-nice. He chuckles again.

There's something about following local customs, Iruka thinks hazily, that makes these kinds of missions tolerable.

Otherwise... Well, going all the way to Grass just to sign a few documents? To stamp a few scrolls?

No. No thanks.

He lets his head thud onto Kakashi's shoulder with a dramatic sigh.

"What has it come to?" he asks, gesturing airily with his arm.

He doesn't get an immediate answer. He _does _get a cool hand pushing back his hair, tugging and smoothing gently.

"I'm not sure, actually," the other replies, voice cool and mellow and low and moving like liquid to places Iruka can't bring himself to focus on.

"But I like it. Don't you?"

Iruka nods, and smiles, and chuckles again. Kind of at the same time.

But whatever.

It's not like anyone's writing this down.

* * *

_That Kakashi's got quite a silver tongue.-SHQ_


	6. Posession

**030. Possession**

* * *

Ibiki carefully slides the blade forward, peeling the skin. His face betrays nothing.

The man before him exhales in a tight hiss.

"This can end right now," the interragator comforts, gently pressing the knife into the wound.

The man forces a deep breath, eyes clenched shut beneath the blindfold.

"I'll stop when you answer my question," he clarifies.

Silence.

"Did you have illegal and unnatural relations with Hatake Kakashi?"

The words fall gently from his lips, like balm or poison.

The only response he recieves is the man's slow, slow breathing.

Ibiki removes the blade, carefully smoothing down the small flap of skin he's cut and regards the man before him.

He reaches for his tray and grabs a clean blade.

He wraps his left hand around the other's throat as he positions the knife at the tip of a scar-

-the one that slashes across the man's nose, cheek to cheek.

The pulse screaming under his fingers jars his concentration

He pauses.

"Don't make me do this."

Iruka smiles, and it's not the smile you give to an enemy.

Ibiki's left hand tightens around his throat.

"I'm sorry, Morimono-sama," he rasps, "but you'll have to wrench it out of my corpse, because..."

He trails off as the knife breaks skin. The metal is cold in Ibiki's hand as drags it through the scar tissue, deaf to Iruka's voice, his walls strong once more.

_"...it's not my secret to tell."_

The words trickle from his lips as slow and quiet as the blood down his chin.

* * *

_'Biki is a meanie. -SHQ_


	7. Bicycle

**032. Bicycle**

* * *

"Kakashi?"

"...?"

Kakashi, I appreciate the gift and all, but... Why did you get me a bike? It's kind of random."

"..."

"Hey, where are you going? I _do _appreciate it, I just wondered- What's this?"

"..."

"Don't give me that look. Hmm, let's see... Oh god. Kakashi, biking shorts?"

"..."

"_Spandex _biking shorts?"

* * *

_Well, if he's gonna ride it, he might as well dress for it. -SHQ_


	8. Spade

**051. Spade. **

* * *

_"Sensei," Kakashi drawls, leaning over so that his mouth is right behind the chunnin's ear._

Something in the posture.

_"Don't work too hard in here, all by yourself," he purrs, bringing a hand up to tilt Iruka's head back so that cloth covered lips brush skin._

Something in the eyes, something in the gestures.

_"Trust me," His voice is dangerously low._

A smirk that spells h-e-a-r-t-b-r-e-a-k-e-r.

_"You'll need the energy." he promises, and disappears in a wisp of smoke._

Iruka can't for the life of him figure out why, but he's always been a sucker for style...

_Flushed, breath catching in his throat, he slumps over his desk, desperately trying to calm down._

...and Hatake Kakashi's got it in spades.

* * *

_Just so ya know... I rock at solitaire. -SHQ_


	9. Cut offs

**002. Cut offs.**

* * *

Kakashi dug his toes into the sand and pondered his situation.

(He was that kind of person.)

Originally, the plan had been to hide under the pier until Tsunade was inebriated enough to completely disregard his absence from the beach... festivities. Drunken rioting hardly merited such a prestigious title, in his opinion, but he kept those where he could see them, anyway. Which brought him to his current predicament.

Someone else, it seemed, had also decided to hide out at the pier.

Someone with the most incredibly, amazingly sexy legs.

Sleek, perfectly muscled, cinnamon tanned legs dangled temptingly from the frayed edges of a light blue pair of denim cutoffs.

The skin glowed invitingly in the russet streaked sunset, and Kakashi concluded that if he absolutely _had _to be stuck down here... at least the view was nice.

* * *

_Just when you thought it was safe to go to the beach. -SHQ_


	10. Fulfillment

007. Fulfillment.

* * *

Silence as you wait, anticipating. He'll be here soon.

_Swish swish_, papers flutter (homework, essays, notes) beyond the door.

Quiet, barely audible, a small _ah _catches in your throat. You can't help it. Already your chest vibrates like _badump-badump-badump**badumpBADUMP**_. Metal clicks as the door knob turns, and the sounds of Konoha spill inside for one, two, three seconds before _click_, the door's closed again and papers _swish swish_ as he dumps them onto the table and _zzzrrr _as the zipper un-zips and the vest slips off and falls onto the floor with a soft _fump_.

He inhales deeply, eyes closed, stretching, rolling his neck slow, slow, slowly. Dark chocolate hair escapes from the band in little bundles, and the strands just barely whisper across the skin of his neck like you want to. Your chest vibrates like **_badumpbadumpBADUMP_**. You move towards him without attempting to mask your presence, footsteps going _pat pat pat_ and you know he hears you because he doesn't turn around, he stays perfectly still.

His heart beats against his chest like _tatump**tatumpTATUMP**_, and you feel it more than you hear it because your hand is on his stomach, your other hand at his waist. You slide it under the blue fabric of his uniform, the material wrinkling up, and you feel his skin, hear him breathing a little quicker. Your hand drags up, up, up with a low _shhh _sound. Your hand is over his heart. It goes _tatump**tatumpTATUMP** _through your fingertips and your palm and your wrist and your arm and making _your _heart beat faster, makes _your _blood hotter. You press against him.

Time is measured by your pulse now, and his, and suddenly this is everything- this being so close, this need to be closer.

His hand reaches up and covers yours. It's warm, warmer than yours. He bends his neck back, resting his head against yours. He peers at you from the corner of his eye, watching you watch him. He twines his fingers with yours. Slowly, he rubs your hand against his chest, letting himself strain into the touch, just a little. Your voice catches in your throat like _ah_, and he turns his head just enough for something pink and wet drag across the edge of your ear again and again and again.

His hand drags yours lower.

His skin against your skin against his skin sounds like _shhh_, going down, down, down. His breath comes out hard, breath catching like _AH _in his chest, in his throat, and you press closer, closer, and it's _not close enough_. You press closer, and there's the sound of his back moving against you. There's the sound of your heart and his, of skin against skin and breath intermingled and touch.

These are the sounds of fulfillment, the sounds you live for.

He turns his head and you turn yours, and your lips meet with a small sound that means the world to you.

* * *

_For **RyuEarth**, **Crock-fever**, and everyone else. Review or I swear I'll slap a rabbit! -SHQ_


	11. Lighter Fluid

**021. Lighter Fluid. **

* * *

Revenge is a killer.

He knows this, and he's promised himself that, no matter what, he'll never take that road.

But his bed is so empty now, his house (not home, not anymore) is so empty.

His heart is empty.

Why shouldn't his promise be empty, too? And even when he cries, his mind circles back to that hell road to nowhere, darkness and fire.

The tears drip like lighter fluid.

He's ready to burn.

* * *

_If you have oily skin, does that make you more flammable?-SHQ_


	12. No Touching

**083. No Touching**

* * *

Iruka stopped.

Iruka stared.

Just for the hell of it, Iruka stopped _and _stared, letting his mouth gape open for extra style.

"_Hatake Kakashi_," he hissed, glaring at the man sitting underneath the tree, "Just what the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

Kakashi blinked innocently, looking up from the book he was holding in his right hand. His other arm was slung casually over a large blue peacock, which stared at Iruka with vacant round eyes.

"Why sensei," he replied, "I happen to be reading."

Iruka flushed the dark red of bloodlust, face twisted into a glower that made the grass Kakashi sat upon wither at the edges.

"There was a _sign_," he growled, "I know you saw it!"

"A sign?"

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, then shook his head.

"Sorry, Iruka-sensei. I don't recall a sign."

"Damnit, I know you saw it! You're not supposed to touch the peacocks!"

Kakashi blinked.

Iruka seethed.

"You know as well as I do," he spat, "That Konoha doesn't have strong ties with this daimyo. This is _his _palace. We. Can't. Afford. _Angering_. _Him_!"

"But we're friends now, see?"

Kakashi turned his head and regarded the bird, which opened its beak and drooled.

Iruka took a deep breath.

Iruka exhaled.

Iruka fixed Kakashi with an expression usually saved for situations involving a chair, a length of rope, and assorted sharp objects.

"Kakashi," he warned, "I will do something we will both regret if you do not step away from that bird."

With a bored sigh, Kakashi removed his arm from the bird, which closed its beak, nipped at its feathers, and strode jerkily away, motley tail dragging in the grass behind it. The jounin loped over to the chunin and slung an arm over his shoulders, smiling cheerfully under his mask at the teacher's exasperated frown.

"Maa, Iruka-sensei?"

"Yes, Kakashi?

"I may not be able to touch any peacocks here... but I'm still going to touch yours."

* * *

_It'd be funny if peacocks were actually well endowed as far as birds go. But the opposite might be funnier. -SHQ_


	13. Dolls

**008. Dolls. **

* * *

He didn't sparkle and wear spandex while he did it, but Kakashi prided himself on being coordinated.

Of course, that didn't mean it was easy breaking into Umino Iruka's apartment. Especially while his arms were occupied with a less-than-sober, decidedly-wriggly Umino Iruka.

But he managed it... which left him where he was.

Iruka was sprawled out on the couch before him. This couch was a calming green color, and soft without being cushy. He knew from experience that dozing on it was like dozing in spring grass.

It was a tempting couch.

But Iruka, laid out on the couch as he was, blushing heavily, brown eyes gleaming, was equally tempting. Maybe a little more.

"_Kashhhiii_," he whined, "_Pleeeease?_"

Definitely more tempting than the couch.

"You'd kill me in the morning," he protested.

Iruka snorted in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Nu-uh."

Kakashi crossed his arms, fixing the teacher with a what he could only hope was his best _'I'm not going to argue with a man who's ready to engage in a nu-uh yuh-huh argument'_ stare. Iruka scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Kakashi sighed pulled off the sensei's shoes before joining him on the couch. Iruka perked up, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Kakashi frowned.

"No."

"Frigid," Iruka muttered.

Irony, Kakashi decided, was overrated.

"Surely there's something else you'd like to do?"

"Dolls."

"You want to do... dolls?"

"No, s-_silly_," he hiccuped, "I wanna show you!"

He lurched unsteadily from the couch, tugging Kakashi with him. The two stumbled into Iruka's room, where the sensei immediately dropped down to all fours and dug around under his bed, backside wiggling comically in the air and mumbling under his breath about dust and how he'd make the bunnies die. Kakashi decided it was best not to linger on that last part, and let himself enjoy the view.

And what a view it was.

"A_ha_!"

Iruka stood on his knees, clutching something to his chest.

"Kakashi, c'mere," he whispered.

"If I come over there, do I have to whisper too?"

"Yes."

With a shrug almost feline in its laziness, Kakashi walked over and crouched down beside Iruka. The sensei grinned at him conspiratorially.

"Kakashi," he whispered, "This is Orca."

Kakashi squinted one grey eye.

"What a clever name for a stuffed whale."

"Don't be rude."

"I apologize."

Iruka smiled, then pushed the doll into Kakashi's hands.

"You know, he grants wishes. But only one. Only once. I still haven't made mine."

He turned to Kakashi almost shyly.

"Do you want to wish on Orca?"

Kakashi stared into those brown eyes and felt his thought process slow to the speed of syrup.

"You can wish for anything," he continued, squeezing the stuffed whale and looking to the side, a blush staining his skin.

Kakashi touched the whale, then let his fingers slip around Iruka's, suddenly feeling less sober than the flushed sensei before him.

"No, Iruka, love," he whispered, "I don't need to make any wishes today."

* * *

_All is full of love you have to trust it. -SHQ_


	14. How?

_As much as I love kakairu, I'm supposed to be doing other Naruto pairings, too! To prevent catastrophic fail from occurring, I'd like you guys to **SEND IN PAIRINGS YOU WANNA SEE!** Yaoi, please, and I might not get to all of them, but... that's just how the dradel spins. Also, it'd be really awesome if you could include your country. Any Canadians reading this? Anyone from Peru? Random, I know, but it'd be fascinating! (Did I really just use that word? So dorky...) Well, enjoi!-SHQ_

* * *

**086.How?**

* * *

A perfectly horizontal scar, spanning over the nose bridge and across tan skin, from cheekbone to cheekbone...

Kakashi can't help but wonder.

How did he get it? Who? Where? When?

He can't keep the question from his mind... or his hands. He's got this infuriating notion that if he could just _touch _it, he'd understand.

It doesn't matter how hard he tries. He can't stop himself from wondering- why the secrecy? After all, the source of Raidou's burns, the scars that litter Ibiki's body, and the vertical line of scar tissue bisecting his sharingan are all more or less common knowledge. In the Hidden Leaf, scars are no catalyst for shame.

So why is it, after all these years, no two villagers can give you the same explanation for Umino Iruka's scar?

Kakashi runs his fingers over the dark material of his mask, frowning.

Iruka's a ninja, of course. Secrecy comes with the package. Kakashi understands that much, at least, maybe more than he should. In their line of work, secrets kill more than kunai, and shed at least as much blood. But what about scars?

It's more frustrating than he wants to admit, because he doesn't just want to know, he wants Iruka to tell him.

He wants to touch.

But how?

* * *

_"...but we are the dreamer, Shakti, and the worlds will endure as long as our desire."-SHQ_


	15. Cousins

_I'm taking commissions, she says. Then what does she do? Post the same dern pairing! Le sigh. To be fair, though, I'd already half-finished this one, so... meh. Dedicated to Kat, I guess, even though she'll probably never read this. Happy belated b-day, neko-chan! -SHQ_

**18. Cousins**

oOo**  
**

"Kakashi, what the hell are you doing?!"

The senbon veered off course, sparing the life of an extremely lucky fly and sending a framed picture of Iruka's parents crashing to the floor.

Kakashi froze.

The frame lay face down, surrounded by fragmented glass.

Iruka sighed, the sound sparking an unpleasant twinge of guilt at the pit of Kakashi's stomach. He turned to face the teacher, frowning.

"Iruka, I-"

"You didn't mean to, I know. But a little common sense, Mr. Genius?"

Kakashi held a cautious smile, feeling tense muscles relax slightly with relief.

"I love it when you read my mind, but for what's left of my sanity, I'm going to have to apologize."

Iruka smiled. Kakashi felt warm.

"If you must."

"Sorry, pretty baby."

"Apology accepted. Do me a favor and get the broom, okay?"

With a dutiful nod, Kakashi made the short journey to the kitchen. The broom leaned forlornly against the side of the refrigerator, dustpan clamped around its wooden handle. When he returned to the living room, cleaning utensils in hand, Iruka was on his knees, staring at something in his lap. Kakashi paused, frowning. He crouched down, placed the broom and dustpan on the floor, and slowly crawled to the sensei's side.

"Iruka?"

The sensei turned away slightly, blocking the object from Kakashi's sight. Was it the photograph? Kakashi scanned the floor quickly- no, the picture of Iruka's parents was right there, in front of Iruka's knees. He gently placed a hand on Iruka's shoulder. No response.

"Iruka, talk to me." he demanded, painfully aware of the pleading tone in his voice.

Iruka rubbed at his scar, turning to face Kakashi uneasily.

"You know what it's like to be ashamed of family?"

It wasn't a question.

Kakashi blinked, recalling the dark times after Sakumo committed suicide, when he found himself wrapped in shame and anger and guilt. With the cognitive speed befitting a genius, all of it rose to the surface of Kakashi's memory- the looks from the villagers, the unending repetition of words like _disgrace _in his head. The emptiness of his father's bedroom.

He nodded.

Iruka smiled briefly, but it was a bitter thing. Kakashi wanted to smooth it away, like a tear.

Iruka placed a photograph into Kakashi's hands. It showed three figures standing in front of a beach: a man holding two boys around the waist, one in each arm. He was grinning widely. For a moment Kakashi thought the man was Iruka's father, but quickly realized he couldn't be. This was a different man. His skin was darker, his hair was shorter, his build was lither, and his eyes… there was something _wild_ about his eyes.

His focus shifted to the boys. They shared a lightly tanned complexion, and they both sported the same coffee brown hair. The beginnings of matching ponytails sprouted from their heads. The boy on the left was pouting fiercely, bottom lip stuck out comically.

The boy on the right was laughing, mouth open wide to reveal a mouth full of baby teeth, two of them missing. He shared the man's eyes- there was something untamed hidden there, something unpredictable, like the sea behind them.

"That's Yama Arashi," said Iruka, "My mother's brother. That's me on the left, and that's Arashi's son on the right."

Iruka paused, staring at the picture, with an expression Kakashi had seen all too often on himself.

"That's Yama Kidomaru when he was four."

Kidomaru? That name seemed familiar… Oh. Kakashi held back a sigh. Kidomaru of the Sound Four, his memory supplied. Six arms, a third eye, long range fighter, successfully put Hyuuga Neji in intensive care, listed just under Kabuto in the Bingo Book. _That_ Kidomaru.

"You know what it's like," Iruka whispered. "So please, _please_ tell me, 'Kashi, and don't lie. Does it ever get easier?"

Kakashi silently brought a hand to Iruka's cheek and tried to think, tried to plan his actions.

Every thought was replaced by the color of Iruka's eyes.

Kakashi cursed inwardly, running his thumb over the corner of the sensei's mouth.

"I can't lie to you, pretty baby."

Iruka closed his eyes and leaned against Kakashi, who wasted no time in wrapping his arms around the man, holding him. He felt dampness against his chest. Kakashi cursed himself again and stroked Iruka's back, praying to any gods listening that the other would find comfort in the gesture.

"I can't lie to you," he repeated, "But I can understand. Please don't cry."

Iruka laughed, pulled back, and kissed his neck, a genuine smile on his face.

"I couldn't ask for more, 'Kashi. That's what family is for, right?"

Kakashi held Iruka closer.

The picture slid from his lap and landed next to the picture of Iruka's parents, fragments of glass shining like stars all around them.

oOo

_He wore black and I wore white, he would always win the fight (bang bang!). -SHQ_


	16. Motherboy

_I'm almost through with a Kankuro/Kiba piece and a Shino/Kiba piece (not necessarily in that order), but this got done first. I'm gonna try to do each requested pairing though, so feel free to offer crack pairings(They're addictive! Get it? Ah, I'm so lame...)! Many thanks to all my reviews and readers._ _That's all, folks. SHQ_

_

* * *

  
_

**081. Motherboy **

* * *

Maybe it's because he's lonely.

Maybe it's because he wants to feel needed.

Or, hell, maybe it's because he really just wants to see him choke on a noodle.

Seventeen year old Umino Iruka ponders why he's buying a blue eyed little demon child a hot bowl of ramen.

"Chew your food," he chides, watching the blond inhale scalding quantities of broth and noodle.

"Okay." The boy answers thickly, mouth stuffed with ramen.

Seven years later, and the world is a different place. But he's there at the ramen stall again, Naruto by his side. The blond still tears through bowls of noodles like someone will steal them if he isn't fast enough. Iruka tells him to slow down, but it's really more out of habit than anything.

Naruto just grins and powers through another bowl.

Iruka can't help but smile, and when he leaves for his apartment, it lingers on his lips.

When he gets home, Kakashi is already there. He's lounging on the couch in nothing but a faded pair of pajama pants, pale skin and hair still damp from his post-mission shower. There's a familiar orange book in his hands, but his eyes aren't moving on the page.

Iruka slips off his sandals and pads towards the couch, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. Kakashi sits up, waves, and smiles back, but he's a horrible liar without his mask on, and Iruka tells him so. Kakashi shrugs in surrender, and Iruka plops onto the cushion beside him. Kakashi lies back down with a sigh, his head in Iruka's lap.

He peers up at Iruka with a one dark eye, blinks, and yawns. Iruka lets one hand thread through his hair, smoothing through the mess of silver. His other hand rubs Kakashi's stomach, moving in wide, slow circles. He feels the other relax against him. He feels himself relax, and suddenly he's exhausted.

It's been a long week, and a longer seven years.

He wonders why he's here, with this man, in this place. Why so close. Why he feels like this is where he needs to be.

Maybe it's because he's lonely.

Maybe it's because he wants to feel needed.

Or, hell, maybe it's because he likes the way Kakashi's skin feels against his, likes the warmth and weight of Kakashi's body settled against his own.

Maybe it's love.

Iruka's eyes slide shut and his hands still, the ghost of a smile on his lips lingering even as sleep descends upon them both.

* * *

_South Africa has three capitals: Pretoria, Cape Town, and Bloemfontein. SHQ_


	17. ForgetMeNow

_The first real non-Kakairu pairing I post here and it wasn't even requested. I officially suck at commissions. Oh well- love is love! Happy V-Day, all._ _SHQ_

* * *

**077. Forget-Me-Now**

* * *

"Turn here."

"Gotcha. It's that building right there, right? With the green sign?"

"No, the one behind it."

"Huh? Oh, I see it. It looks very… grey."

"…"

"In a nice way! Like, you know, very, uh, relaxed. Very laid back color, grey. Right?"

"…"

"I'll just park here."

Shino climbed out of Kiba's convertible with a quiet sigh.

The walk from the car, down the hall and to his door seemed to stretch forever. Kiba was probably staring at the building as he walked, disgusted at what he saw. Ugly grey walls riddled with chips, cracks, and stains. Fire escapes shot through with rust. Trash spilling down the stairs and the sides of the hall. His own apartment door: peeling, the knob dented and ringed with rust.

Shino frowned and dug into his pocket for his keys, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

It wasn't as if he had a chance with Kiba in the first place. Kiba wouldn't be interested in his _biology tutor_, of all things. Not to mention Kiba was straight… painfully so. And painfully well-off. And painfully handsome. And painfully-

"Shino?"

…behind him?

He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and slowly turned around. Kiba waved at him.

"Um, hi. So, you gonna open the door with that key?"

"Kiba."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I've never been to your house before, and, uh… well, you've been to my house, so, it's only fair, right?"

Shino frowned.

"We're here so I can pick up some textbooks. Not for a social visit. And I was _invited_ to your house. For a party. As I recall, you even attempted to molest me during the course of said party. _Right?_"

"I was drunk!" protested Kiba, pouting like a kicked puppy.

It wasn't enough that he was straight, lamented Shino. Oh no. He had to be a tease, as well.

"Just please let me in? I promise I won't molest you… unless you want me to."

Shino grunted and turned to unlock his door, mumbling something that, for all Kiba could tell, might've been "Whatever" or "I'll castrate your dog." He jerked the door open with a loud click and a metallic squeal of hinges. He stood in the open doorway for a moment, Kiba beside him.

His apartment was completely dark. He tilted his head, considering. He knew he should warn Kiba. But that would mean sealing the doom of both his dignity and his chances with... He shook his head. He didn't _have _any chances.

"Kiba," he said finally, "Close your eyes when I say 'now,' and open them only when I say to."

Kiba looked askance at his companion.

"Uh, Shino? Not that I don't trust you or anything, but... um. Why?"

"To give them time to scatter."

"Wh-what? What's scattering? Shino?"

"_Now_."

"Shino, wh-_Holy **SHIT**!_"

When Shino flipped the lights on, he was met with the familiar sight of roaches, almost a swarm of them, scurrying for cover. They'd creep back out, eventually, but the sudden light always startled them. He proceeded calmly into the apartment, Kiba scampering after him, eyes darting to every corner and crevice.

The walls in his apartment had long, thin cracks, and the lights flickered noisily. There was barely any furniture, and no television. It _was_, however, meticulously clean (if you ignored the bugs), so he had no trouble finding the books he needed. He grabbed them and walked briskly out, waiting for Kiba to follow before slamming the door shut.

He shoved the books into Kiba's hands and dug into his pocket for his key. It took him several tries to lock the door. The lock kept sticking, and he knew he was turning the key with more force than was absolutely necessary but he didn't _care_, because he'd just embarrassed himself enough, so what was a little more?

The _clack_ of the lock turning was followed by the thump of books hitting onto the ground, and then two hands were pressed against the door on either side of his head, trapping him. He whirled around, mouth opening to ask just what the _hell_ was going on, but Kiba beat him to it.

"Are you mad at me?"

Brown eyes bore into him. They shone with something bright, something feral, and at that moment Shino couldn't speak. It was all he could do to shake his head. Kiba glared.

"Then why can't you get a fucking clue?" he growled. "I _like_ you, damnit!"

Shino scowled, hands curling into fists by his side. Was this some kind of joke?

"Don't play with me, Kiba."

"I'm. Not. _Playing_. I like you! I want you! I'll _prove_ it if you let me!"

"But…"

Shino trailed off, gesturing vaguely to his apartment door and trailed off. Kiba frowned.

"Look," he said, "I don't care if you're not rich… even if the cockroaches in your apartment look like they could be smuggling drugs."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Shino's mouth, and Kiba grinned wolfishly. He leaned in a little closer.

"I don't care about any of that," he whispered. "I just want you."

Shino took off his sunglasses, and Kiba just managed to catch a flash of hazel before his Shino's eyes closed and Shino's lips pressed against his.

* * *

_SAD: Single's Awareness Day. -SHQ_


	18. Illusions

_**Gaaah** I haven't updated **anything **in **forever **and I fail at **liiiiiiife**! Um. Yes. Moving on. Please enjoy this piece of semi-romantic existential KakaIru psychobabble. I rather like it, but I also like the taste of eel, so you have to take that with a grain of salt. (Don't knock it til you try it, though. Eel rocks so hard it makes double-necked guitars uncomfortable. Oh, and, warning- gratuitous usage of parentheses!) **SHQ **_

* * *

**011. Illusions**

* * *

There's something you realize when you experience your first genjutsu.

It's been bothering Iruka, lately. It began during his genin years, when his instructor (the bastard) had him spend an eternity (_nine hellish minutes_) wandering in circles through a forest he knew like the back of his hand. And maybe it ended there. Only it didn't. Did it?

And that was it, really: uncertainty.

Illusions are lies that you believe or that you don't believe but can't _not_ believe, because a ninja's beliefs are created by

A) Mind

B) Body

C) Instinct

Illusions affect all three. (_Depending on the skill of the genjutsu's caster and the target, this doesn't have to be the case. Therefore, correct technique and training are essential. The trick is in sweat and scrolls, but the art of deceit is not limited to jutsu. This is where things fall apart._)

A genjutsu is convincing because it becomes reality. Whether or not the trap is clever or makes any sense to the body doesn't matter, because reality can't lie. It just is. Iruka could (and has, more than once, attempted to) dispel a genjutsu in his sleep.

But without a genjutsu to begin with, how does one dispel illusion?

Is there a jutsu to tear away masks?

(_This is the secret: Dragon, Ox, Ram. Dispel. Pale lips. No, no. That's not it._)

Is there a jutsu to reveal things hidden away?

(_This is the secret: Tiger, Lamb, Rooster. Dispel. A claret eye stares, a thin line of scar tissue bisecting the lid. No. No. That's the illusion._)

Being a ninja means dealing and living with secrets, with deceit, with lies and illusions and hidden things. But Iruka is honest (_enough to admit that his own lies are the worst of lies, wordless lies, lies in smiles and lies to himself, lies that weave something else, something… real?_) and sometimes it seems that, if the world owes him anything, it's a little bit of reciprocation. That is to say, the truth.

(_He doesn't know what he's asking for._)

Look underneath the underneath, Kakashi said. (_Scarecrow: clothes and straw pretending to be a man. Take the hint. He's all illusion, isn't he?_) But how can Iruka look underneath the underneath if there is _always_ an underneath to look under? The truth is underneath the underneath?

Where is the bottom, then?

Where does it end?

Does it end with pale lips, with black and red eyes? Does it end with white masks purposefully left out, with soft words spoken in the dark?

Because there's always more. Always something slipping past Mind, Body, Instinct. Always another layer. (_Form your analysis. What do the layers make?_) But that's just what he _is_. But that can't be it, can it? You can be real or fake, but you can't be both.

(_No, no. This is the secret: Horse, Monkey, Rat. Dispel. Reality can't lie. It just is._)

Can you?

* * *

_"That wath a very clever joke, thir." SHQ_


	19. Taste

_For **waitsiriusly411** and **I'll Be You Lie**, some KankyKiba (That sounds just as awesome out loud as it does in my head, which is a rare treat.)! Don't let the title fool you: Arrested Development continues to develop, grow, and prosper! Well, grow anyway. Even if it's slowly. Meh, one out of three ain't bad. -SHQ_

* * *

039. Taste.

* * *

Kankuro followed his nose. The tantalizing scent of _baraniku_ thickened the air, eliciting a growl in his stomach that could be heard even above the bustle of the villagers. It was lunchtime. What better way to celebrate his impromptu day off than with barbecue pork?

The delicious aroma guided him through the crowd and into a modest, dimly lit restaurant. The chatter of customers and the sizzle of cooking meat filled his ears. He stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjusting to the low light.

"Kankuro! Oi, Kankuro, that you?"

The puppet master twisted his neck with speed befitting a ninja- which was too much, if the sting of whiplash that lanced through his neck was anything to go by. Fighting the urge to wince, he faced his addressor. It was a young man, sitting alone at one of the corner booths.

A young man with wild brown hair, wild black eyes, and… well, damn, he'd know those red triangles anywhere.

"_Inuzuka?_"

"The one and only."

Kankuro edged his way through the tables and plopped down across from the Konoha ninja, regarding him curiously.

"What the hell are you doing in Sand, dog-breath?"

"Eating. The hell does it look like?"

Kankuro watched as Kiba ripped into a slab of meat slathered in dark sauce, torn between disgust, amusement, and a twinge of something he didn't care to name or deal with. Pushing the thought aside, he began to raise his hand, intending to catch the attention of a waiter. Kiba grabbed his hand with a growl.

"W-what the hell, Inuzuka?"

Kiba chewed fiercely, pointed emphatically to the large platter of barbecue in front of him, and swallowed.

"Are you stupid? There's plenty of food here, you don't need to order more!"

"Okay, I get it," grumbled Kankuro. "No need to get your panties in a twist…"

"What did you say, make-up boy?"

"Make-up…? Hey, it's _face paint_, dumbass!"

"Riiight. Shut up and eat your meat."

Kankuro glared at the other and bit into a rib. It was dripping with a brownish-red sauce; a glob of it ran onto the back of his hand. He licked it off. Kiba watched, paused, then bit his own food, keeping his eyes on his plate. Kankuro raised a brow.

What was up with dog breath?

He thought about calling him out on it, but then Kiba licked smudges of sauce from his lips, humming in satisfaction, and suddenly thinking wasn't an option. He nibbled at his food for a moment, mind flashing that particular image on repeat. It took all his training not to start when Kiba spoke.

"I think this sauce is the best thing Sand has going for it," he declared. "Whatever it is, they don't have it in Konoha."

"No, they do," corrected Kankuro. "It's just not as good. It's made out of a desert plant, the _mesquite_. We get the quality stuff, of course. The other villages settle for bad or old crop because they can't tell the difference. All comes out in the taste though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

Kiba sniffed, frowned, and pushed his plate aside. He slammed his elbows onto the table and narrowed his eyes at Kankuro, fixing him with the kind of stare one usually associates with a wolf, a small animal, and the crunch of bones in the near future. Kankuro resisted the urge to squirm and matched Kiba's stare, something a little too confused to be a frown pulling at his mouth.

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

Kiba let loose a quick bark of laughter and lifted one hand to point at Kankuro.

"Nothing's wrong with _me_. You, however, are a different story."

Kankuro scowled, an angry flush creeping up the back of his neck. Did Kiba catch him looking? Was that why he was acting like this?

"You know what?" snarled Kankuro, "Fine. Whatever. I'll leave, if you want, but I don't have to deal with this."

He stood up and turned his back on the little booth, but Kiba's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"If you leave, asshole, you'll be missing out on something a lot tastier than this fucking sauce."

Kankuro blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Let the words echo in his head. When he turned around, Kiba's stare was just as predatory, but now there was a hint of challenge. Never one to back down, Kankuro smirked back.

"Oh really?"

Kankuro let his tongue slip out and lick his bottom lip. Slowly. Something like a whimper escaped Kiba, and Kankuro grinned.

"I think _I'll_ be the judge of that."

* * *

_Forsythia for anticipation, dill for lust, and grass for slash. SHQ_


	20. Need

_ So... been a while, huh? Hmm. I think we should put the past behind us and forget how much I suck at updating. Let's move into a bright new tomorrow (or.. today?) of reading, enjoying, and reviewing. Thank you, dahling, you're simply maaahvelous. -SHQ _

* * *

006. Need.

* * *

When Iruka cracks open his apartment door, groggy and confused and mussed _just right_, Kakashi is glad for the solid weight of Mr. Ukki in his hands. The clay pot is cool and rough under his fingers. It gives him something to grip at.

"Kakashi-sensei? It's-" Iruka bites back a yawn and opens the door fully. "-the middle of the night. What's wrong?"

"Gomen, Iruka-kun. It is a bit late, isn't it?"

Iruka rubs his scar, exasperated, before focusing on Mr. Ukki. The houseplant's leaves glint with light spilling from his doorway.

"Kakashi-sensei… why did you bring your plant?"

"I need you to keep an eye on him for a while."

"Keep an eye on him?"

"Yes," replies Kakashi, shaking his head sadly. "I'm afraid he's a bit of a troublemaker. But you've got plenty of experience with that kind of thing, right?"

Kakashi pushes the plant into Iruka's arms, visible eye curving into a happy arc. Iruka's brows scrunch together in something between confusion and exasperation, but a small smile is tugging at his lips, too, and Kakashi wants to keep it there as long as he can.

"Make sure he gets plenty of water. Otherwise, he'll never let you get a good night's sleep."

Iruka grins and shakes his head.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Kakashi…" the grin fades, and Iruka's brown eyes meet his squarely. "A while, huh?"

Kakashi shrugs. Iruka looks away, frowning slightly.

"Don't worry, sensei," Kakashi mollifies. "I'll be back to take him off your hands. There's just one thing I'm worried about."

"Oh?"

"I always read to him before bed. Icha Icha Volume 12 is his favorite…"

"_Kakashi!_"

"…but since I'm sure you'll be much too tired to read to him, I think you'll just have to kiss him goodnight instead."

Iruka blinks. Looks at Mr. Ukki. Looks at Kakashi.

"Well," he begins, a sigh in his voice, "I don't know. If I kiss him goodnight every night for _a_ _while_… I'll start to miss him when you came back."

Kakashi grins, hums in thought, and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Iruka. You'll just have to kiss me goodnight, instead."

The sensei laughs, and Kakashi decides he could stand there all night.

"Is that a promise?" he chuckles.

Kakashi nods solemnly and places one pale hand over his heart.

"Iruka," he says gravely, "I swear it."

Iruka shakes his head with a smile.

"Goodnight, Kakashi," he says, turning to shuffle back into his apartment. "Don't you _dare_ forget your promise."

The door closes behind him with a little click. Kakashi almost wishes he still had Mr. Ukki, because suddenly, his hands seem distractingly empty.

Fifty two days later, Kakashi does not forget his promise. Fifty two days later, Kakashi wakes up with a fractured femur, a tenacious concussion, and a certain brunette dozing lightly in the uncomfortable hospital chair beside his bed.

Maybe it's the painkillers, but Kakashi finds it's as easy as a dream to wake Iruka up and demand his goodnight kiss. Iruka, for all that he blushes and demands that Kakashi stop being such a reckless idiot, finds it easy enough to comply.

* * *

_"The biter bit, the bitter bite (It's better to be out at night)."- SHQ_


	21. Money

**009. Money. **

**

* * *

**

'If there is any mercy in this world, somebody kill me. Right. Now.'

Iruka's mental plea to the universe remained, unfortunately, unheard and unfulfilled. He remained sitting at the Ichiraku ramen stand in the sort of condition one generally associates with running full tilt away from a pack of patrol dog-nin through miles and miles of brush… mainly because that's exactly what he'd just done.

Running for dear life, of course, builds a man's appetite, especially if said man has been chocking down nothing but ration bars for three days. So it was understandable that, after dropping off his mission report, he'd _immediately_ made his way to Ichiraku's and demanded three large bowls that would have done Naruto proud (one with fish, one with miso, one with extra extra _extra_ spicy curry).

Said bowls now stood on the counter before him, empty and violated. His hunger sated, the only thing left to do was pay, go home, shower, and hit the hay. But.

_All of his money was gone._

Maybe he'd lost the emergency mission cash while hurtling through that rocky outcropping, or maybe he'd lost it when one of the nin-dogs had managed to rip at his vest. Iruka did not know.

He merely knew that Teuchi, the Ramen Guy, was smiling at him expectantly. He knew that, after the attacks on the village, people were tight on money in Konoha. He knew there was nothing golden and shiny in his armored vest to give to the man.

He smiled awkwardly back, rubbed at his neck, and considered his options.

He could A) jutsu away B) admit he had no money or C) pull a genjutsu on Teuchi, which would A) exhaust the last of his chakra and B) make him entirely too guilty to get the kind of rest that he desperately needed.

Option B it was, then.

"I'm sorry," Iruka began, "I- _ah!_"

He whipped around, kunai in hand, to face whatever the _holy hell_ had just touched his ear.

"Yo, Iruka sensei."

Iruka blinked, blushed, and bared his teeth in something that could almost pass as a smile.

"Kakashi-sensei! How _are_ you?" he inquired, in much the same tone one would use to say 'Go _away_, you dirty bastard.'

The eccentric jounin, in Iruka's opinion, was hard enough to handle at the best of times. Dealing with him in his current bedraggled, I-almost-got-eaten-by-dogs, about-to-skimp-out-on-the-Ramen-Guy state was an entirely different circle of hell.

"Oh, well enough. But I just couldn't help but notice you look a bit… stressed."

Iruka's right eye began to twitch, and he could almost _hear_ his temple throb.

"Stressed?" he bit out, "Stressed. Yes, you could say I'm a little stressed."

Kakashi tisked, sauntered over to the ramen counter and leaned casually against it. Iruka blushed in annoyance, then blushed a bit more because blushing in front of Kakashi was _embarrassing_, damnit.

"That's no good. Let me see if I can help you out, ne?"

Iruka stared.

"Help me out?"

Kakashi nodded.

"With my stress?"

Kakashi nodded again, eye arcing happily.

Iruka was tired. The three day chase and the massive amount of ramen he'd just eaten was catching up to him, slamming him with the kind of exhaustion he hadn't felt since the morning after Anko's 21st birthday party.

He wanted nothing more than to take a deep breath and explain to Kakashi very explicitly just what activity he could engage in. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, sighed in resignation, and asked the Copy Nin one final question.

"_How?_"

"By leaving, of course. You're obviously not in the mood for my lovely company."

Iruka blinked. That… was unexpected.

"Kakashi-sensei," said Iruka, a vague sense of guilt tugging his lips into a frown, "You don't- I mean, I didn't-"

Kakashi waved his words away with a short laugh.

"Go home and rest, Iruka," he ordered, pushing away from the ramen counter and placing a friendly arm around Iruka's shoulders. "You'll just have to _pay me back,_" he purred, leaning entirely too close to Iruka's ear, "Sometime later, ne?"

With that, Kakashi vanished. A handful of leaves fluttered in his wake. Iruka blushed (not because of the arm or the… _purring_, damnit, but because of the entire thrice damned situation) and turned again to Teuchi… who was counting money that had definitely not been there a moment ago.

"T… Teuchi-san?"

"Here's your change, Iruka-kun," said Teuchi, handing him aforementioned change with a cheerful smile. "Have a nice evening!"

Iruka nodded dumbly, turned around, and walked into the cool night air. He should have been thinking about the nice, long shower he was going to take. He should have been thinking about the warm, soft bed waiting for him.

But as his feet followed the familiar path to his apartment, his mind kept circling back to Kakashi's stunt.

And how payback was really the _least_ he could do.

* * *

_Oh, hey, don't feel bad, you just injured my pride, but I can throw it all aside, and sweetheart, you know you're not half bad. -SHQ_


	22. Sand

042. Sand

* * *

"Nnn… Ka… Kakashi?"

"Mmm?"

"We –_uh_- we really shouldn't… here…"

"Oh?"

"Y-yes! I… _god_… I don't want… to get sand in… places…"

"Places? Places like _this_…?"

"_D-Damn it, Kakashi!_"

* * *

_If I'm lame, you're paraplegic. -SHQ _


	23. Choices

**016. Choices.**

**

* * *

  
**

Kakashi's favorite sensei was coming home early, ETA forty two minutes and 35.5 seconds.

There wouldn't be any classes at the Academy tomorrow.

Kakashi planned on taking advantage.

Which brought him to a certain predicament: standing in the "food" section of Konoha's newest adult novelty shop, trying desperately to come to a decision and failing miserably. Chocolate syrup or white chocolate syrup? Strawberry sauce or whipped cream? Cherry syrup or…?

He glared at them each in turn. Time was passing: forty one minutes and 12.4 seconds left until Iruka got home. Damn.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, frowning. What would be the logical choice?

Iruka had mentioned he wasn't fond of white chocolate. That was out. Kakashi was partial to strawberry sauce himself, but the stuff wouldn't look as stunning on Iruka's skin as chocolate would, would it? But then there was the whipped cream…

Screw it. He'd get the chocolate sauce.

It was with said chocolate sauce (the bottle tucked discreetly away in his vest) that he opened the door to Iruka's apartment.

And promptly had his mask pulled down and a strawberry popped into his mouth.

"Taste good?" asked Iruka (a wonderfully, fantastically, phenomenally _shirtless_ Iruka), trailing a hand down the side of Kakashi's neck.

Nod. Chew. Swallow.

Iruka smirked.

As hot as that was (indescribably hot, in his opinion, hotter than Suna in the summer and Icha Icha Volumes 6 and 17 _combined_), Kakashi decided a little blushing was in order. He reached into his vest jacket, pulled out the bottle of chocolate sauce, and gave Iruka's smirk a run for its money.

Iruka flushed, and Kakashi grinned.

"Chocolate sauce?" he murmured, closing his eyes as Kakashi kissed him, tasting of strawberry and heat.

Iruka licked his lips.

"Good choice."

* * *

_Get up and get dressed, I refuse to let you spend the day musing like some Lord Byron wannabe. -SHQ_


	24. Wait, What?

So it's totally come to my attention that I've neglected to post some of my Kakashi/Iruka stuff on ff. Some of it's on LJ, some of it I just never bothered to post. In any case, these drabbles needed a home, and what better place can you crash than at a relative's place? Cuz this is a mostly Kaka/Iru drabble series, and they're Kaka/Iru drabbles, so they're like relatives... get it? Please ignore my lame jokes. They're harmless, I promise.

* * *

**SONGS FOR THE HARD OF HEARING**

**

* * *

  
**

_It's music meme time again! Song starts: you start writing. Song stops: you stop writing. Well, that's the idea. I always cheat (i.e., I go back and edit), but I'm just a horrible person like that. Anyhow! Just a couple of things. _

_Firstly, regarding drabble 8, the song If Six Was Nine describes nonsensical/improbable things (e.g., the number six turning out to be nine) and how the singer wouldn't mind them, because he has his own thing going on, so the rest doesn't matter. See where I went with that? Eh, I just don't want it to seem completely random… Secondly, regarding drabble 10, a scenester is just… a participant in a certain "scene," generally a musical one. Like the Punk scene or the Goth scene or the Metal scene or the Magical Underpants scene. Okay, I made that last one up._

**oOo**

**1. Crosstown Traffic _[The Hush Sound]_**

So this was how it was gonna go down, huh?

Iruka scowled, looked both ways, and slammed his foot on the gas. Angry horns bellowed after him, but it was tunnel vision time. There was only one thing on his mind, and it wasn't pissed off civilians. He was a cop on a _mission_, damnit!

There was a dangerous, cop-kissing criminal out there, and he'd be damned if he got away. Again.

**2. Smells Like Teen Spirit _[Nirvana]_**

Leaning oh so casually against the cold brick wall behind the gym, Kakashi presses the cigarette to his lips and takes a deep drag. White hair droops over one eye, and the other blinks lazily as a pony-tailed figure dashes up to him.

"Your pranks are fucking stupid," murmurs Kakashi, smoke wisping from his lips.

Iruka ignores him.

"Nobody saw me?" he asks. "No one came in?"

Kakashi shakes his head. Iruka grins and wipes his hands on his jacket. He smells like sour milk.

"What the hell did the football team do to you, anyway?" he drawls, pushing off from the wall.

Iruka just grins.

**3. The Restless _[The Matches]_**

He remembers some of the early missions. Babysitting a noble who treated men like dogs, for the first time.

The first blisters. The first misses. First fuck-ups.

Remembering makes him restless, sometimes, because he wonders if he's really come so far after all. Those things haven't gotten easier, not really.

Watching Kakashi, all cool calm grace (and silent death), he can only see the chasm between them. He'll never be that.

Eating ramen (alone, because Naruto is away- he forgets sometimes), he wonders what the hell he's doing.

In bed, waiting for sleep that won't come, he wonders what else he could possibly do.

**4. Main Theme _[Phantom of the Opera]_**

Iruka ushered the last of his students out of the theatre with a tired grin. He trudged back to the stage to grab his bag, only to find he didn't have the energy to leave. Teaching drama classes- what was he thinking? He sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

Iruka froze, eyes widening. The darkness was absolute. He couldn't see _anything_. Panic began to claw at his chest- but then there was a light, a brilliant beam at the other end of the stage, shinning so brightly that Iruka had to squint against it.

There was a man standing in the light.

He was tall, with a shock of flyaway grey hair that obscured one eye. In his hands he held a bouquet of lush, scarlet roses. Despite the black scarf covering the lower half of his face, he was clearly grinning.

Iruka saw red.

"I don't care," he growled lowly, "That you own this theatre, Kakashi. I don't care if you sprout roses out your ass! _That was not okay!_"

Kakashi gave a dramatic sigh.

"Iruka," he replied, "Drop the act. You know you love it."

**5. My Year In Lists! _[Los Campesinos!]_**

Stationary is the only scrap paper near, so he grabs that.

The pen leaks ink onto his hand.

The list is pretty short. No numbers, just nice little bullets.

Beside each of them is a resolution. In each resolution is a name: _Iruka. Iruka. Iruka._

Maybe he doesn't really believe in the new year anymore, but he can believe in something.

**6. Time to Know Be Waltz _[Cowboy Bebop]_**

"The Hokage has obviously lost her mind," declared Kakashi.

Iruka blinked up at him from the comfort of the couch, half-graded papers crowding his lap.

"Oh?"

Kakashi shook his head gravely.

"I have one month to be ready for a mission I'll never be ready for."

Iruka raised a brow, thoroughly confused.

"I'm to pose as a dance instructor. A _waltzing_ instructor, to be precise."

Iruka stared for a few long moments. Then he laughed, long and hard. Kakashi glared.

Still chuckling, Iruka cleared the papers from his legs and stood.

"C'mere," he chuckled. "I guess I never told you about the Umino family tradition, huh?"

**7. Cocaine _[Jimi Hendrix]_**

Shit.

Not a lot of coherent words were making it through whatever was fogging his mind, but that was one of them.

Shit. Damn. _Poison_.

He stumbled into the forest, wondering if anyone was following him. He'd killed the target. But not unscathed. He couldn't think, could barely move- everything was too bright, too fluid, too sluggish and weird. He stumbled, righted himself, and found that the sky was on the wrong side of his feet.

And then someone was hauling him up. Someone warm, with soft, grey hair, someone who smelled familiar. Maybe it was the fog choking his mind, but that was enough for Iruka to decide that he was probably going be okay. Enough for him to grin a goofy grin and hug the person close, cuddling into them with a low sound and watching as the world squiggled by, tinted and misted by the fog in his head.

**8. If Six Was Nine_ [Jimi Hendrix]_**

Iruka waved at Sasuke, who grinned cheerily back, and continued walking. Weird, but… well, so were a lot of things. He sighed happily, and glanced up at the sky. A large floating whale blinked back at him. Ah. Shuichi-san was summoning again.

Eventually, his feet found a certain doorway.

In the doorway stood a certain Copy-Nin-turned-pastry-chef. Flour smudged his uncovered nose.

Iruka smiled in greeting.

Kakashi returned it with a kiss.

**9. Ain't Nuthing Ta Fuck Wit _[Wu Tang Clan]_**

Udon whimpered.

Iruka snarled.

The three missing nin laughed, their voices nasal and coarse.

A sudden rustling in the leaves silenced them. Sharingan no Kakashi strode into the clearing, giving the dumbstruck ninja a casual wave before joining Iruka's side.

Iruka grinned. It was sharp and hungry, and Kakashi almost pitied the three fools. Almost.

"You've got Udon covered?"

Kakashi nodded.

"Good," said Iruka. Less grin. More teeth.

"This shouldn't take long."

**10. You! Me! Dancing!** **_[Los Campesinos!]_**

The music was okay, but the fresh air was better. Kakashi exhaled, and misted air danced before his eyes.

"Crazy in there, huh?"

He turned, and two laughing brown eyes met his own. His eyes flitted over the other, taking in cinnamon skin, an interesting scar, chocolate colored hair… eyeliner, a tee shirt and a tie.

Just another scenester.

But his mouth was quirked in something just a little bit wicked and a whole lot of laughter, and Kakashi found himself nodding in reply.

"I'm Iruka. Wanna go dance?"

Kakashi leveled him with a _look_.

"I don't dance," Kakashi informed him.

"Well, Mr…?

"Kakashi."

"Well, Kakashi, I dance with all the grace of a retarded chimpanzee. But it's cold as hell out here and I want to have fun. Don't you?"

Kakashi gave him a considering stare.

"You're insane," he said finally.

"And you can't dance a single step. So come on."

Kakashi opened his mouth to say no, he'd rather suffer numb fingers and keep his dignity, but somehow he found Iruka's hand was in his and his feet were following Iruka's onto the dancefloor. Iruka proved he wasn't lying, and Kakashi found he couldn't care less.

**

* * *

**

**RANDOMNESS**

**

* * *

  
**

_I'm not completely sure when or why these happened. But they did. Forgive me?_

**oOo**

**_Dance Wars_**

Naturally they're at Ichiraku when it happens, Iruka with miso topping and math tests, Kakashi with curry topping and a novel of questionable character.

Gai storms over, leaving shell-shocked civilians in his wake.

"Eternal Rival!" he roars, "I, Maito Gai, challenge you to a battle the likes of which has never been seen before!"

Kakashi blinks at Gai. Gai sparkles back.

"I challenge you," he rumbles, "To a _dance_ war!"

That, Iruka will later reflect, is when it all goes right straight to hell.

Because if there's one thing Kakashi lacks, it's shame, and Gai lacks the knowledge that he can _not_, in fact, dance. When it's over, and civilians and ninja alike dare to peek through windows and tree branches in hopes that the horror has stopped, Iruka drags what's left of Kakashi home and dumps him onto the couch.

Iruka fixes him with a long, even stare.

"…At least I won?"

"Actually, unless you really, _really_ like sleeping on the couch… you didn't."

**_Modicum_**

Kakashi resists the urge to run, resigning himself to his signature relaxed stride. The mission room is half full of aimless nin, but there's one person he's looking for…

"Kakashi sensei," greets Iruka. "I'm glad to see you're back all right."

His voice is warm and honest, and Kakashi could kiss him right here.

"Same here, Iruka-kun."

He slips the mission report onto the desk and walks away, imagining the look on Iruka's face when he sees the small note Kakashi has tucked between the pages of the report.

**_Dance Wars Redeux_**

Naturally, they're at Ichiraku when it happens, Iruka with miso topping and math tests, Kakashi with curry topping and a novel of questionable character.

Gai storms over, leaving shell-shocked civilians in his wake.

"Eternal Rival!" he roars, "I, Maito Gai, challenge you to a battle the likes of which has never been seen before!"

Kakashi blinks at Gai. Gai sparkles back.

"I challenge you," he rumbles, "To a _dance_ war!"

That, Iruka will later reflect, is when it all goes right straight to hell.

Because if there's one thing Kakashi lacks, it's shame, and Gai lacks the knowledge that he can _not_, in fact, dance. When it's over, and civilians and ninja alike dare to peek through windows and tree branches in hopes that the horror has stopped, Iruka drags what's left of Kakashi home, and dumps him onto the couch.

Iruka fixes him with a long, even stare.

"…At least I won?"

"Actually, unless you really, _really_ like sleeping on the couch… you didn't."

"We got this couch from Ikea. Man, they have the best fuckin' deals."

* * *

**TROLL BAIT**

**

* * *

  
**

_The first draft of this was written on Facebook. No, seriously. I wanted to say 'Hi, how ya doing?' to Crock (a NaruSasu fan) without being completely boring, and somehow this popped out. It's completely ridiculous, and probably the only NaruSasu (well, SasuNaru, if you're nitpicky) I'll write in the foreseeable future. Not that I don't love the pairing- writing them just isn't my thing. But I digress._

**oOo**

Once upon a time, there was a silly little blond boy named- Steve. But his friends called him Naruto. There's actually a funny story behind that one, but let's not go into it. So. There was a silly boy called Naruto.

One day he was walking through the woods (because woods rhymed with hood, kinda, and he imagined himself to be a pretty hard gangsta) when he came upon a bridge. In front of the bridge was a sign that read: HEY, DON'T CROSS THE BRIDGE. There was also a little picture of a stick figure crossing the bridge with a big red line running through it.

Naruto figured there must be treasure on the other side!

So he skipped up to the bridge, humming happily. He had almost reached the other side when, suddenly, a pale, dark haired boy approached him, almost as if he had stepped out of thin air.

"What the hell?" Naruto yelled, "It's almost as if you stepped out of thin air! Don't sneak up on me like that, bastard!"

The boy crossed his arms and rolled his eyes in a very bastard-y way.

"Look, idiot," he sighed. "As far as you're concerned, my name is Sasuke. Thanks to some dumbass fairy with a grudge…" He coughed, the noise sounding suspiciously like 'Sakura.' "I am the troll of this bridge. So give me your soul, or something."

Naruto gasped.

"My soul? But I need that!"

Sasuke glared.

"That's not my problem, retard. Now gimme."

He stalked threateningly towards the silly blond, who was rooted to the spot with fear, sky blue eyes widening.

"Wait!" he cried, "Can't I just give you the 'or something'?'"

Sasuke blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"You said give me your soul _or something_," Naruto clarified.

"Oh."

Sasuke frowned, staring at the silly blond. Slowly, the frown turned into a smirk. His eyes began to look predatory.

"Well, you could give me a kiss instead."

Naruto blushed, gaping at Sasuke. Thoughts could hardly run through his (admittedly thick) head, but the few that did concerned how soft Sasuke's hair looked, and how, for a troll, he was really very... pretty.

As Naruto stared, Sasuke closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Naruto's in a kiss that quickly gained heat- and saliva. And tongue. And groping.

"I've changed my mind," said Sasuke, licking his lips, "I won't take your soul… I think I'll take your virginity, instead."

Naruto, who hadn't been listening, just nodded and kissed the troll once more.

* * *

**PETALS AND INK**

**

* * *

  
**

_Ok, so every April Fool's Day, the kakairu Livejournal community does a different theme. Last year it was yuri!kakairu, and this year it was War of the Roses!kakairu. The War of the Roses was a period when the Houses of York and Lancaster fought for control of __England__, although there were minor conflicts before and after the fact. I like to think this takes place afterwards, a few years after Lancaster won, when there was still an ass ton of tension between the two houses… just enough for some forbidden romance, ooh-la-la! The name of the war comes from the badges associated with the houses: the White Rose of York and the Red Rose of __Lancaster__. I plan on continuing this, so watch out!_

**oOo**

Dear Sir Hatake of York,

I beg your forgiveness if this letter upsets you, but I feel I must put court formalities aside for the moment and be quite frank. I can only hope you'll do the same. You see, I was quite puzzled by your actions at Lady Tsunade's birthday gala.

Unless the customs of York differ from those of Lancaster more vastly than I'd previously imagined, one does not generally kiss a gentleman's hand as one would a ladies'. I assure you, my blush was caused by the lack of propriety held by such an action, not because I was thinking… _unchaste thoughts_, as you suggested.

Please do not take offense; I enjoyed conversing with you (although one would think there is more to a conversation than relentless teasing), and I look forward to seeing you again. I am merely a trifle puzzled, and I don't wish for any misunderstandings to linger between us.

Sincerely,

Sir Iruka of Lancaster

oOo

Dear Sir Iruka of Lancaster,

I offer thee a thousand apologies and more: a meager sum to offer before such a fealty as thine. I meant not to bemuse thee, but my (admittedly questionable, as thou said) conduct delivered such a lovely blush to thy complexion that I found it wholly impossible to restrain myself.

Alas, my words amount to so little. So I have enclosed a rose, claret and lovely, as befits a Lancaster beauty such as thyself. I beseech thee, take it as penance for any misgiving I may have roused.

Do I seem forward? Do I seem wicked, lewd? Forgive me, but I fear I must shift the blame to thee. Such roses as the one I have sent thee are known to be bewitching, but before the perfection of thy visage, they pale in comparison.

Sincerely,

Sir Kakashi of York

* * *

_Oh dear. You're a darling for reading all this. You know that, right? Absolutely darling. Be a darling reviewer? -SHQ  
_


	25. Prison

**This one's a little odd, but it grew on me. More up soon, thanks for reading! SHQ**

* * *

**033. Prison**

**

* * *

  
**

Iruka has always had a hand for earth jutsu.

_He's not as good as Kakashi, of course, but Kakashi is on Iruka's back, bleeding and silent._

So when the world goes to hell, and he's left watching three squadrons of Konoha soldiers begin to choke on their own blood (_What the hell kind of poison is this?)_ he does what he can.

He takes a deep breath (_eyes screwed shut, because it might be his_ _last)_ and performs a jutsu he's only ever read about.

His eyes and chest burn with misrouted chakra.

The dark press of earth smothers his scream.

oOo

It hurts to breathe.

It feels like there's a weight on his chest, something heavy, something… warm?

Iruka frowns. Tries to open his eyes, but his efforts are met with more pain than he wants to deal with. One thing at a time. Eyes still closed, he cautiously flexes his fingers- no pain. He moves his hands, wrists, arms. Sore. But okay. Slowly, he brings a hand up to the weight on his chest.

Cloth. Skin.

Kakashi.

Somehow Iruka manages to find the edge of his mask, tug it down, press shaking fingers to the soft skin of his neck. A small eternity passes before he finds a pulse. The relief is a blessing, and gives him the strength to roll onto his side, gently letting Kakashi slump onto the cold, stony ground beside him.

The effort leaves his heart thumping uncomfortably. It doesn't hurt to breathe anymore, but his chest still aches. Iruka frowns, sits up. The dizziness almost knocks him back down, but he grits his teeth, waits for it to pass.

When it does, he deepens his breathing and concentrates. Listens. Somewhere, water is dripping, echoing off stone. The air is damp. He smells mold and moss. He reaches out with his chakra, senses bugs, a few snakes. Feels the vaguely electric hum of Kakashi's chakra, weak and faltering.

He still can't open his eyes.

oOo

Time and sunlight happen to other people.

Certainly not to him. Not in this place.

Iruka has learned every corner and bump of the little cave, learned on his hands and knees, because there is no room to stand. There is one way out: a tall, narrow cliff, slick with mud, that he has no hope of ascending.

Kakashi won't wake up.

Iruka forces handfuls of rainwater down his throat and waits, waits, waits. Feeds his chakra into Kakashi's when he can. Passes out afterwards. Slips into long, dark dreams. Wakes up in a panic because he can't open his eyes without screaming, heart thudding in his chest, and it _hurts_, his heart _hurts_.

He wants to hate it, this sanctuary turned cell. But what he hates is how the back of his eyelids has become a prison.

Lonely, and lightless.

oOo

More and more his thoughts turn to death.

What it feels like. When it will come.

The idea of death, of dying, doesn't scare him. Not like it used to. He's got everything to live for: his students, his village, Naruto. But he can't bring himself to be afraid. Death is loss, of life and living. But death is also release. From flesh and mortal pain.

Iruka is a soldier, and no stranger to suffering, but crawling from one end of the cave to the next leaves him gasping, leaves him desperate, leaves him clawing at his chest as if he could just _tear the damn thing out_ and make it _stop_.

Mostly he stays by Kakashi.

Stays close by his side. Talks to him. Tells him, voice raspy and weak, about his students. Old missions. His parents.

Kakashi shows no signs of waking.

Iruka isn't afraid of death, but one thought is beginning to terrify him:

What if it's dark?

oOo

Years pass, maybe, or days.

Sometimes, when he's dreaming, Iruka hears the ocean. He can hear it crashing and rumbling just beyond the cave, he can smell it, he can almost _see_ it, wide and blue and so, so free.

He can't crawl anymore.

He buries a hand in Kakashi's hair.

Panic and fear roil in his gut, and his heart is a rhythmic agony. Dark hours creep by.

A slow, strange calm overtakes him.

Iruka exhales.

He takes his index finger. Bites. Warm wet blood seeps out.

Inhale.

He slumps down beside Kakashi. Reaches out. Under cloth. Feels the sluggish thump of Kakashi's heart.

Exhale.

He presses down with his nail. Hard. Skin breaks. Warm wet blood.

Inhale.

He presses his index finger to the cut. Whispers a jutsu he's only ever read about.

Whatever happens, they'll go together.

oOo

_A shining ocean. The crash of waves against the shore, the cool sea wind. Everything is clean and bright._

_Someone takes his hand._

oOo

He can't open his eyes.

Iruka tries and tries and he _can't_, there's something _there_, and he reaches up and tries to claw it off because it's _not fa_ir, he can't go _back_ to this, he _won't_-

His wrists are caught in a firm grip. Iruka yells, falls deeper into panic.

"Sshhhh…"

The voice is hoarse, raw with disuse. Has he heard it before?

"Ssshh, it's okay, hush now, you're fine…"

Iruka stills.

"Kakashi?" he croaks.

"Right here."

Iruka swallows.

"Where…?"

"Konoha. We're safe. We're fine."

"You're okay?"

Weak laughter.

"I should be asking _you_. Yes, I'll be alright."

Iruka sighs, slow and deep.

His heart doesn't hurt.

"Your bandages come off in a few days," he continues. "You'll be fine."

Iruka nods.

He hears Kakashi take a breath, as if to speak further, but stops himself.

"I'm going to get back in my bed," he says finally. "Before Tsuna-"

"No," Iruka interrupts. "Stay, please."

A long moment stretches by, and then there is a warmth beside him, a hand in his hair.

"Thank you," Kakashi whispers. "You saved my life, you know."

""Did I?" murmurs Iruka drowsily.

The bed is soft. Kakashi is so _warm_, and his voice is oddly soothing. It's a struggle to stay awake.

"Yes, you did."

"So you owe me?"

"Yes… You could say that."

"Good," Iruka yawns. "You'll go to the sea with me, then."

Kakashi makes a thoughtful sound. Iruka feels himself drifting into darkness, warm and unafraid.

"All right," promises Kakashi. "We'll go to the sea."


	26. Boyfights

**Can I just say I caught a wicked case of RL? Thank Chuck Norris for Spring Break. Whew. **SHQ

* * *

**005. Boyfights.**

**

* * *

  
**

A Ninja's Rules for Fighting And Stuff

(by Umino Iruka)

1) Don't fight unless you have to. Mom said fighting should always be a last resort, so I guess you should always avoid it if you can.

2) You have to fight to protect the people you love. Even if it's something big and scary, and you're not sure what to do… you have to try!

3) Ninjas never cry. You can't ever cry. If you do, that means you lost.

4) But sometimes… it's okay. The Third Hokage _himself_ said so, and he's always right!

5) You shouldn't fight with a kid living at the same shelter as you. Unless he started it.

6) Never underestimate your opponents. Especially if they're taller than you.

7) If you're in a fight, be stronger than the other guy.

8) If you can't be stronger, be faster.

9) If you can't be faster, be smarter.

10) If you _still_ can't win… prank their ass.

11) When it comes to that Kakashi jerk, just skip straight to the pranking part.

* * *

**-Or-**

* * *

You drag them both in by their ears.

Your silence is worse than anything you could say; it shows in their eyes. They glare at the ground, stubbornly holding back tears. One has several long scratches running down his arms. The other has a violet bruise flowering under his left eye. Their clothes are filthy.

Quietly, you clean the scratches and press ice to the bruise. One stares defiantly at the floor. One fiddles with his bandages.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"He started it!"

"I did _n-_"

"I didn't ask who started it," you interrupt.

Tight silence.

"Look at each other."

They do so with painstaking slowness.

"Now," you begin, "I don't expect either of you to be perfect. You'll fight. I know this. Sometimes because you're angry, sometimes because you're scared, sometimes because you're lonely or sad… Sometimes it's just what boys do."

You pause.

A familiar presence nudges at your awareness. Briefly, you glance toward the window.

"But," you continue, "The moment you start fighting _against_ each other instead of _for_ each other, everything you do here becomes pointless."

They fidget. You sigh.

"I want 500 words on mission protocol by tomorrow morning. At least 300 should focus on teamwork. _And write it together_. Dismissed."

They dash out of the room with the kind of energy you sorely wish you had. Absently rubbing your scar, you lean against your desk and glance out the window.

"Quelling rivalries, are we?" quips Kakashi.

Part of you is annoyed that he managed to break the class wards so easily, but most of you is busy appreciating the strong hands rubbing gently at your shoulders.

"Not _quelling_," you mutter, closing your eyes with a sigh. "Just… adjusting."

"Is that right?" he drawls.

You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"When a boy fights," you say quietly, "He is moved by selfish reasons- anger, fear, sadness. When a man fights… he is moved by love. They need to learn that."

Kakashi pauses, then laughs. His hands slide down from your shoulders and slip around your waist, holding you close.

"Those brats are lucky, sensei," he chuckles, pressing a clothed kiss to your neck. "But I think I might be luckier."

* * *

_You are not at war with a deck of cards. -SHQ_


End file.
